


One Day Longer | Hosea Matthews X Reader

by GaunterODimm



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Nazi Germany, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Antisemitism, Concentration Camps, Death, Discrimination, F/M, Fear of Death, Genocide, Longing, Mass Murder, Period-Typical Racism, Please Read The Disclaimer, Psychological Torture, Resistance, Romantic Angst, Slow Burn, Slow Updates, Soulmates, Torture, True Love, War, World War II, age-gap, maybe some sex?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-01-23 21:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18558499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaunterODimm/pseuds/GaunterODimm
Summary: Living with five other siblings, life has never been easy.When Germany invades the Netherlands and your father sides with the Nazi-party, you are suddenly dropped into a world of wealth and strange theories. But when he promises your hand to a man that makes the hairs of your neck stand on end, you are left far from happy.However, when a charismatic stranger, H. Matthews, crosses your path and shows you the true horrors of the German occupation, you decide to join the Resistance and help out as many people as you can to escape the iron fist of Hitlers dark regime.How far will you go for justice, for love, or will you choose family in the end?





	1. A disclaimer before you read

Hey there! Thank you for checking out my Hosea Matthews X Reader AU!WWII book. I need to get a few things out of the way before I start publishing this. Since this story does touch very, very sensitive topics, there needs to be some clearance first.

 **FIRST AND FOREMOST!** I do NOT sympathize with Nazi ideology. I am not an antisemitic person. I am not racist. I do NOT, I repeat I DO NOT agree with ANY of Hitlers/Nazi-Germany's beliefs.  
  


_**A list of the topics that will be touched in here. Might expand later.**_  
  
\- Nazi ideology;  
\- Antisemitism;  
\- Racism;  
\- Discrimination;  
\- Genocide;  
\- Mass murder;  
\- Extreme beliefs;  
\- Inhumane acts;  
\- Nationalism.  
  
To prevent things being said that could hurt someone in the comments, I have put the comments on moderation. Any "jokes" that will be commented about any topic will be kicked immediately. I am not sure if it is possible, but if it is, you will be BLOCKED if you do so.    
  


****_Reasons why I write this story:_  
  
\- I wanted to write another historic X Reader fan fic and I know quite a bit about this topic;  
\- It's a very interesting part of history;  
\- Not all of the world knows the details of WWII;  
\- We can all learn something along the way;  
\- It's important to realize the  _blessing_ of living in a free country.

 

**If you see any historical mistakes, please tell me kindly. I will then look into it and change it to be as close to the truth as possible. All facts that are put into this work are handled with care by me. I do not try to push any political agenda whatsoever.**

**Not everyone will be comfortable reading about this. Reader discretion is advised.**  
  
Nothing in this work can be copied without my permission. Any translations or re-posts should be discussed with me first. I can be found on discord, or on here.

**Any person other than the historical people mentioned, is purely fictional. Any resemblance to real people is a pure coincidence. The characters from RDR2 belong to Rockstar. You belong to you.**

* * *

Before you continue on the first chapter, I think it'd be important to inform you on how some Dutch names are pronounced, as they might be seen as difficult without any explanation. 

Here are some names you will see in the story. More names might be added in the future.

 

 **The Vermeulen Family (Fur-meuh-lun - Mills)**  
_Your father :_ Albert - "Al-burt"  
_Your mother:_ Leontine - "Lee-on-teen-uh"  
_Your oldest brother:_ Folkert - "Folk- hurt"  
_Your older brother:_ Maarten - "Mart-hun"  
_Your youngest brother:_ Johannes - "Joe-han-us"  
_Your younger sister:_ Aaltje - "All-tje"  
_Your youngest sister:_ Mies - "Mees"

 **Minor characters**  
_Neighbour: Postma - "Phost-mah"  (Mail, with a few letters added. This is not uncommon in Dutch surnames, for example: Dijk **stra**_ **.** _Weide **ma**_ **.** )  
  
  
  
**The Royal Family of the Netherlands**  
_The queen:_ Wilhelmina - "Will-hell-meena"


	2. Eén - Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, please read the first chapter of this book for disclaimers and several notes on the Dutch language.
> 
> Check the end of the page for notes on terms and elaboration on certain events.

**AUGUST 17TH 1939, THURSDAY | TIME 04:34PM | LOCATION: THE VERMEULEN HOUSE| POV - YOU**

  
The lingering threat of a late summer storm was tangible in the air as you stepped outside. The occasional splash from a potato being dropped in a pot of water let you know what was on the menu for tonight. You looked over to your mother, who was sitting a little away, skinning yams at an experienced speed. 'Johannes is finally asleep.' you said as you fastened the knot of your apron behind your back. She didn't look up, just kept slicing the potatoes with not much thought. 'Mother.' you pressed, causing her to slightly jump.

'(Y/n), what did I tell you about sneaking up on me? You are going to have me a heart attack.'   
'Johannes is finally asleep.' you repeated, sitting down next to her on the wooden bench that was located on the front porch underneath a small roof. From your pocket, you took a small knife, starting to help her with preparing dinner. Mother did not respond. In silence, you skinned potato after potato - it was quite the task with such a large family.   
  
In the background, you could hear your younger sisters Aaltje and Mies jumping rope - well, Aaltje at least. Mies was just a little young to be any good at it, let alone understand what she was supposed to do. A watchful eye your mother kept over them, much more alert whenever you weren't around, since you were expected to keep them in line often. Being the oldest daughter in the family, responsibility is what you got. Even though it was much work at times, you wouldn't want it any other way. The love you felt towards your siblings was immense - you loved them more than you loved yourself.

'That takes care of that.' your mother muttered, dropping the final yam in the pot. 'Be a dear and put them on the fire for me, yes? I will have to get the mail. Your father is such an  _onnozelaar ***** , _forgetting to fetch it each morning. Except his newspaper, yes, he never forgets that one!' she huffed out a laugh, handing you the full pan of potatoes. You obeyed, getting up and heading to the kitchen.  
There was just enough wood left in the stove to heat it up. Placing the heavy pot onto it, you started to stir, adding a pinch of salt, just patiently waiting for the water to boil.   
Mother entered the kitchen, causing you to look up. Her eyes were fixated on two letters that she held in her hands. 'What's that?' you asked out of curiosity. She gave you a sharp glare.   
'Nothing for you. Get your brothers.'   
  
A frown formed on your face, your brows knitting together in confusion. Folkert and Maarten had been working on the land of our neighbour Mr Postma since early morning and wouldn't be back until dusk. However, whenever mother told you to fetch them, you knew that something was going on. And so you put your apron on the back of a chair, making haste towards the cow farm of Mr Postma.  
  
Your sandals were almost too worn to make it comfortable to run - still you lifted up your working dress slightly so it wouldn't become too muddy on the skirt and moved as fast as your legs could carry you. After almost walking over a few chickens that were roaming around the courtyard, you entered the stables. A familiar head of blond curls had you speak up.  
'Folkert!' you called out, 'Folkert, mother has received a letter for you and Maarten!' A sweaty face went upward, light eyes meeting yours. 'Hey dear sister, what on Earth is going on?'  
  
Out of breath, you stood at his side. 'It's... The mail... Mother has received a letter for you and Maarten in the mail...'   
'Easy, (Y/n). It can't be that bad.'  
'Mother was very concerned when she read the envelope.' you told him. 'Maybe they need you to work abroad?' Fear struck in your heart at that sudden option. Folkert put an arm around you, hugging you a bit. You scrunched your nose, not liking the odour of his sweat. 'Don't you worry, dear sis. I assure you that it will be nothing to worry your pretty head about, yeah? Now you return home and Maarten and I will be right over.' You nodded, heading back home. On the way there, it had started to rain. You anxiously awaited their arrival.   
Mother was sitting at the kitchen table, not paying attention to the boiling potatoes. You rushed over to the stove, taking a little to stir the pot. 'Are you okay, mother?' you questioned, gazing over at her slouched form. She waved her hand dismissively, not saying a word. Her hair was messily thrown into a bun, making her look so much older than she really was.

'We are here.' Maarten announced, throwing his jacket over one of the chairs. 'Where are those letters (Y/n) mentioned?' Mother pointed at the table, where both of the envelopes were waiting to be unsealed. 'It's from the Ministry of Defence.' Both young men ripped open the paper, curious to see what was inside.   
  
'A call for military service.' Folkert muttered, eyes scanning the page in front of him.   
  
'Obligatory?' asked your mother with a scared voice. Maarten put a hand on her shoulder before giving a small nod. 'To build and army against the Germans.'  
'We won't need an army.' Father entered the kitchen, a lit cigarette between his lips. He sat down, opening his newspaper before him on the table. 'Just like the Great War ****** , we will be neutral. There hasn't been a war here for over one-hundred years, what makes you think that there will be one now? For as far as I am concerned, Adolf Hitler doesn't have anything against us.' He exhaled some smoke, flipping a page. 'But as long as it pleases our dear queen, you can join the army for a few months. Makes you strong men.' Father gazed over at the two, Maarten standing unsure of the situation, Folkert straightening his back. 

Your oldest brother moved to stand next to father. 'I will protect our homeland, father. Even if it will cost me my life.' He had a determined look in his eyes.

'Where will you get your uniforms?' you asked. Maarten read over the letter. 'At the capital of your home province, so I suppose it would be Utrecht ******* for us.'   
'That will be at least a day trip away.' mother spoke, clearly concerned about the children that still had to be fed - without the two hard-working men, we would try to get our money someway else.  
'It's necessary, mother.' Folkert said, 'and just one of us can go get them. The other can still work that day.' Mother seemed to be more confident with it now.  
'When will you be leaving?' another question slipped from your mouth, one that you immediately regretted asking: you didn't want them to go.

'In two days.' Folkert whispered, walking to stand beside you. He put an arm around you, pulling you into a hug. 'But until then, we can still hang out, yeah?' You nodded, fiddling with the small cross pendant that was hanging around your neck. 'Okay.'

 

* * *

 

**AUGUST 19TH 1939, SATURDAY| TIME 07:44AM | LOCATION: THE VERMEULEN HOUSE | POV - YOU**

You sat on the sofa, Mies sitting on your legs. Before you stood both Folkert and Maarten, Maarten's uniform slightly too large - But he still had to grow into it, according to mother.  
'The two of you look very handsome.' you said, holding Mies by her waist as she wiggled on your lap. 'Will you be shooting, too? Do you have guns?' she asked, much to your mother's dismay. She was playing the piano rather gracefully, as if she was trying to bring some peace to the tension that was clearly hanging in the air, and maybe to keep her mind off it all, everything to not be paying attention to her two grown-up sons that were about to walk into battlefield.

'Mother.' Folkert assured, 'It will be just training. It's not like we are going off to war right now. The army is just thinned out greatly ever since the latest war in those lands, and that war took place over a century ago. And as long as me and Maarten are there, we will make sure that those bloody Germans will not cross the border!'   
A sad smile came over her face. She stood up, reaching out to him to adjust the lapels of his heavy coat. 'You are a handsome man, Folkert. You too, Maarten. You're brave men. You will make great husbands one day.'   
You fiddled with Mies' pigtails, ignoring the six-year old as she tried to stop you from doing so by frantically moving her head. '(Y/n)!' she whined, making you apologize softly. You were nervous. Placing the child on the ground, you arose from your sitting position.  
  
'I don't want to be the oldest sibling in the home yet.' you said. Your brothers smiled softly. 'This calls for bear hug.' Folkert said with a grin. 'Mies, you want to join in?' She shook her head, climbing on top of mother's lap now. She was anxious too, not wanting the moment to end.   
Both Maarten and Folkert wrapped you in a tight embrace and they kissed your head a few times until you giggled. 'That tickles!'   
'We know!' Maarten joked. 'Come on. It is almost eight. We must go now...'

A heavy sigh left your lips as you went to get Johannes out of his crib. He began to be a bit fussy so you put your finger in his mouth. Heading towards the study of your father, you knocked on the door. 'Come in.' The hinges creaked as you entered the room.  
'Father, the boys will leave now.' He looked up from his papers. 'I was thinking,' he mused as he joined you on the walk downstairs towards the porch. 'Maybe it is a good thing that they go to war now. Makes them men. But  _if_ Germany invades... It will be a lost cause. We are so small compared to that huge  _Deutschland **.**_  There is not much we can do. After all, perhaps the Germans are not that bad. We have never done them any harm, and we aren't Üntermenschen****. We're not all that different.' You frowned at this remark, an uncomfortable feeling forming in the pit of your stomach.

'Boys... Or shall I say: Gentlemen.' your father opened his arms and your brothers were quick to hug him - even though they were in their mid-twenties, they weren't shy to show affection to their parents. The scene warmed your heart, but at the same time you felt sadness. You kissed the side of Johannes' head when he started to cry.   
'Oh, our little brother...' Maarten took off his field hat and put it on top of the eight-month-old boy. You giggled. 'Oh, you silly brothers. I am going to miss you so much.'

They hugged you tightly again. 'Dear sis, we will be back before you know it!' Folkert said, ruffling your hair. You swatted away his hand, but not without a chuckle.  
  
Both brothers said goodbye to your mother, your younger sisters - Mies was crying a little, but she always did when someone left, like grandpapa or the postman - but Aaltje on the other hand was in tears. She was thirteen now and understood quite well that her older brothers, the ones that always protected the little ones, were about to leave for quite some time. You put your hand on her shoulder when it was time for them to go - Folkert on the bicycle and Maarten on the rack of it*****.   
'Bye bye, darlings!' your mother said, wiping away a tear. Aaltje hugged you, burying her face in your chest. You patted her head, trying your best not to burst out into tears. 'They will be fine.' you whispered in your sister's hair as they brandished away until they were out of sight, on their way to the train station. 'They will be fine.' you repeated, not sure if you were talking to your sister, or to yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Onnozelaar (On-no-zuh-lar): Roughly translates to stupid, dumb. A term often used to say that someone is an idiot. Wanted to go with another term, but realized in English you don't have any reference as to how we pronounce the letter combination "ui" as in "uilskuiken". If you're interested, you can look the pronunciation of it up on Google Translate.
> 
> ** The Great War: Logical nevertheless not unimportant to mention that WWI is referenced to as the Great War throughout the entire period of WWII. People didn't know there would be a Second World War beforehand, meaning that WWI is seen as "The Great War" until after the liberation of Europe in 1945. In WWI, The Netherlands kept its distance from all fighting, remaining wholly neutral.
> 
> *** Utrecht: Utrecht is the capital of the Dutch province of Utrecht (besides "Groningen" is this the only province of which capital carries the same name) During WWII, this city is one of the main stations for the NSB, the National Socialistic Movement, a political party that became legal again after the German invasion. More on the NSB later. The Netherlands count twelve provinces.
> 
> **** Üntermenschen: Albert Vermeulen is here referencing to Easterners as the "Üntermensch" (roughly translated: subhuman, less than human. For the pronunciation, use Google Translate). Hitler saw the people that lived in the countries east of Germany - Poland, Ukraine, Czechoslovakia et cetera - as less than human, as animals, since he was driven by an extreme nationalistic nature. This group of people stands in contrast to the "Übermensch" (roughly translated: Superior human), consisting out of Germanic countries like The Netherlands and the French. Throughout history you will see that Hitler treated übermenschen considerably better than Üntermenschen. In this story, this racial conflict will be mentioned more times than once.  
> You as the reader are right to be confused, judging by how this is a term purely used by national-socialists and people that sympathize with Hitler's beliefs.
> 
> *****: Bike rack: Legends tell that years ago the racks on the back of bicycles were much stronger. I am not so sure though, only that the basic racks today can support weight up to 25kg/55lb. The more you know.


	3. Twee - And Then, We Fell

**MAY 10TH 1940, FRIDAY | TIME 03:44AM | LOCATION: THE VERMEULEN HOUSE | POV - YOU**

The low tremble in the air had you straight up in bed, confusion-blown eyes scanning the near-dark attic room. You shivered from the nightly cold, gaze going to the window immediately as the low hum did not stop. It was a sound that chilled you to the bone. Perhaps it was a dream, or maybe it was the fear from those last few days that had you imagining things. You tip-toed on your bare feet towards the window, proceeding to look out of it. In the dim light of the silver moon, you could barely make you the shape of a small aircraft. 

'(Y/n)?' A voice behind you, a girl's one. Your younger sister had awoken.  
'Aaltje, go back to bed.' you told her as you looked over your shoulder. 'It's nothing to worry about.'   
She gazed up at the ceiling and you followed her eyes, seeing that the small lamp in fact was quivering violently.   
Suddenly, the house began to shake from that same low grunting that came from the plane.  
'(Y/n)!' Aaltje reached forward and wanted to bury her face into your neck, but there was no time to stay where you were. You picked her up - she was still smaller than you and you were glad that you weren't too weak to carry her - and you went downstairs.   
Mother and Father were up as well, tired, fearful eyes. 

'What is going on?' you questioned while putting down Aaltje, looking with pity towards the panicking Johannes in Mother's arms. Oh, his poor tiny ears... And Mies was crying as well, holding onto Father for dear life.   
'That's what we would like to know as well. An earthquake, perhaps?'   
'I saw a plane.' you told them, 'I saw it as I looked out the window.'   
Father cursed under his breath, rushing outside. It was cold and the moon had disappeared behind the clouds. But the loud groan that was audible in the sky had not stopped - only increased. 

'My Lord...' you breathed as you saw several planes flying over the house, further into the country. 'It's the Germans...' Father said. 'They're finally here...'  
'It was only a matter of time.' Mother said with a sob in her voice. 'I am afraid, Albert... Our boys are still out there. They will have to fight after all...'  
Mies was wailing loudly - who could blame her? Her ears were hurting, she was tired and even though the ground wasn't trembling anymore like it had in the old house, panic was still raw in her eyes. You scooped her up and held her close, kissing the top of her head. 'Sssh... We will be alright, my little princess...' She clawed into your nightgown, staining it with salty tears. They cooled quickly, leaving your back a damp, icy mess, but you didn't mind.  
You watched the planes for a few minutes before it finally became a little calmer again. Surely, the house wouldn't be trembling on it's foundation anymore.   
'Let's go inside again, mother.' you urged, not wanting the children to be cold any longer. 

Placing your little sister on the sofa - it was not like she would go to sleep anymore - you kissed her forehead. 'Should I make them some hot milk?' you asked your mother, who was paler than she had ever been. She gave a small nod, 'Yes, and please, make some for me and yourself as well.' 

You gave your father an odd look as he headed upstairs. 'Where are you going?'  
'To sleep.' he stated, proceeding to walk to his bedroom. You frowned - who could sleep under such circumstances? Still, you went to the kitchen, putting up a pan with some fresh milk onto the stove. From the cabinet, you took a pot of honey - purely reserved for special occasions and sore throats - but you weren't sure if planes intimidating the country counted as one of those. Adding a big spoon of the sweet substance in chipped mugs each, you hoped it would calm anyone's nerves in here for the rest of the night. The news wouldn't be on the radio until early morning, so why bother staying awake until dawn?

You stirred the pan, staring at it while it slowly began to boil. You took out the hot coals that were left in the stove with some tongs, deciding to put them away for now. Lighting up the hearth would only cause the family to stay downstairs for longer and if you wanted anything, it was that they at least got a little more sleep tonight. Tomorrow was probably going to be a terrifying day for all of you.   
Pouring the warm drink into the mugs, you pondered about what your brothers were doing right now. It had been a while since you had received a letter, in which they were obliged to stay very secretive about their whereabouts. If one of those letters ended up in the wrong hands, that would be problematic. However, the way they made it sound like they were at some kind of fun camp made something in you very, very uncomfortable. And if it wasn't that bad, it certainly would become now. 

With a tray in your hands, you carried the cups of damping milk towards the living room. Mies was still shaking, so you helped her drink by lifting the mug to her lips. You had added a bit of cold milk in the kitchen to her cup to make sure she wouldn't burn her tongue. Johannes had calmed himself against your mother's breast, much to your relief. Aaltje sat silently with her legs pulled up to her chest, not touching the beverage you had made her. 'Folkert and Maarten are probably dead...' she whispered with fear-blown eyes. 

  
'Don't say such things, you stupid girl!' By the way your mother's shoulder tensed, you could she that she had to resist the urge to slap your sister on the back of her head. *****  
'I am sure that they will be alright.' you assured your sister, looking over to Johannes, who had become calmer. 'All we can do now is wait for the morning. I am sure that the news will give us more clearance, but until then, we need to get some sleep. We don't know what is going on for sure, so there is no use in being concerned about them at this very moment. There is time to worry later.' 

On that note, you finished your drink in silence. Not bothering to wash the cups right away - that would come tomorrow as well - you went upstairs to the cold attic room. However, a slender hand on your arm stopped you. You turned to face your mother, who was giving you a wry smile. The frightened look in her eyes made your heart drop. You swallowed thickly as she opened her mouth to speak, nearly unable to find the correct words. 'You are a great sister to your siblings.' she whispered, careful not to wake father, whom you could hear snoring rather soundly. 'They look up to you in a way that you could never comprehend. Just please... Please look out for them, whatever is out there and whatever happens.' 

'Always.' you replied, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. You continued your trip to the bedroom, avoiding one creaking stair in particular in order to not startle anyone. As you entered your bed that had become cold again, you pulled your blankets tightly over your shivering form. Right before you closed your eyes, you heard a tiny voice next to you, nearly inaudible over the sound of the wind howling around the house - '(Y/n)? Can I lay next to you?' You rolled over to face Aaltje, who looked fragile and so much younger.

'Of course,' you said, 'If you bring your own blanket too. We put it on top of mine, we will get double warmth.' She did as you mentioned, draping it over you before climbing next to you. Without hesitation, you wrapped a protective arm around her. Her feet were cold against your bare legs, but you didn't flinch. Kissing the top of her head, you let out a sigh. Even though you were tired and Aaltje radiated warmth, you didn't find any sleep that night. 

* * *

 M **AY 10TH 1940, FRIDAY | TIME 07:12AM | LOCATION: THE VERMEULEN HOUSE | POV - YOU**

The events of the previous night had you out of bed before the rooster's call. You rushed into your clothes, heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. To your surprise, you weren't the only one out of bed. Father was sitting on the sofa, one leg draped over the other with his hands folded underneath his chin. He seemed sunken away in thought and you didn't dare to draw him out of it. However, his eyes flickered your way after a few moments of silence, the only sound in the background being the large grandfather's clock that was standing against the wall.   
'You're up early.' was all he said before tearing his gaze from you again, concentrating on the spot right before him. You wondered what he was looking at.  
'So are you.' you responded. 'I... Couldn't sleep anymore. Aaltje is still asleep, at least when I left the room. Do you want some eggs?' Father didn't say a word, so you took it as a yes.

Even though you had boiled eggs, brewed fresh coffee and had eaten your own breakfast, time seemed to pass slow until the morning news on the radio.   
Perhaps that father had looked at it in the living room earlier when you had placed a plate with an egg on toast and a cup of coffee onto the side table. He didn't even thank you for your efforts. Just when you had finished your drink and proceeded to stare at the leftover residue from the coffee beans, your mother stumbled downstairs. Her hair was messy and around her feet she was wearing slippers. 'Is the news on yet?' As if on cue, a sound of the radio coming to life filled the house. Heading to the sitting room, you saw your father knelt in front of the device, trying to find the right channel. Static noises with mumbles here and there, until he had found a clear angle for the words to be heard correctly. You slightly jumped as you felt someone hug your thigh, only to find Mies clinging onto you. You put your hand on her hair, ruffling it slightly. She stuffed her thumb in her mouth, looking up to you. Aaltje brushed past the two of you to sit on the sofa in the same position she had been sitting in previous night, like a scared doe that was about to be eaten by a bear. Part of you wanted to sit next to her, to wrap your arms around her and tell her that all was going to be okay. However, you didn't know. You couldn't know and so you stood frozen in place, awaiting the news to begin.

_'Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is Hilversum Dutch Channel General Program. We ask your attention for the ANP ****.** The General Headquarters have announced the following at a quarter past five this night: Since three o'clock German troops have passed the Dutch border. Air attacks have been attempted on several airports. The army and defenses have been readied. Inundations*** are going according to plan. As far as known, at least six German planes have been brought down.' _

Another voice now took the word and noises were heard on the background. You didn't know who it was, but you thought it was someone who was involved in the case.

_'My people. After our country, even though it took quality and fitness seriously and had no other resolution than to consequentially keep on fighting, our lands have been attacked by the German army without any kind of a warning.'_

The rest of the words just sounded like a blur, for your thoughts drifted off immediately to your brothers. They were still out there, on the battlefield! Mother's nightmares had come true - if they made it out alive it would be a blessing. It almost looked like she was falling in slow-motion, dropping onto her knees. Your mother put her hand in front of her mouth to muffle the heartbroken cry. 'My boys! My darling boys!' You rushed to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. 'Mother, there is no way you can be sure that they will not make it. You know how strong they are... Mother...' You knew her tears were upsetting the little ones, and frankly, you were feeling scared as well.   
'My Lord, the Germans... It is just a case of days, I am sure.' Father muttered. 'Our country is far from able to withstand the German forces.'   
'No.' you said firmly, 'Even though we didn't have a proper army for a long time, I have faith in our men. For the fatherland they will fight, I am sure!'  
'Will they fight, or will they die? If they're wise, they surrender immediately. What can we do against such a mighty land?' 

You blinked, shaking your head. How could Father have given up already? Kneeling down next to her, you hugged your mother. The reassuring whispers you mumbled in her ear did nothing to calm her down.

Suddenly, you realized something. 'Father, where can I find the hammer?'  
'In the shack in the garden, why?'  
Without responding, you went to fetch it, soon returning with the heavy tool in hand. From the top shelf of the bookcase that was standing in the living room, behind the large books that were stacked on there, you took the money box that you always kept to put in change, in case of emergencies.  
'What are you doing?' Mother asked as you put the stone box down on the table, raising the hammer to create some force in your muscles. 'I am going to stock up on some food, water and medicine.'  
She smiled a little at you. 'You're quite something, (Y/n).' You smashed the stone container to pieces. 

* * *

 

M **AY 14TH 1940, THURSDAY | TIME 08:40PM | LOCATION: THE VERMEULEN HOUSE | POV - YOU**

  
Lifting the heavy sheets that were still damp from washing up to hang them on the clothing lines strung between the two oaken trees in the front garden, you let out a sigh. The last few days have been nothing but uncertainty, and even though you still managed to keep hope and not succumb to the fear of what-might-be, your mother had fallen victim to the anxiety of your brothers not making it through the war. You had received letters before, but only once, far before the Germans invaded for real.   
You naturally took over some of the more heavy tasks around the house, like doing the laundry or dusting the shelves.  
  
You had heard the gunshots and planes all the way from Utrecht and beyond, and even though it struck you with fear, you knew that you needed to hold your head up high. As long as you didn't receive a telegram with bad news from the postman, all you could do was keep on going. But the radio didn't sugarcoat anything; On the Grebbeberg, the fights had been lethal and more powerful than ever expected, and the Dutch army was being pushed back further and further. Trapped like rats. 

You were most certain that your brothers would return home, for the sake of mother.  
  
'(Y/n).' Your father stood in the doorway. 'Come inside, and quick.'  
A frown came over your face and you followed his commands, heading to the living room with him. 'What's going on?'  
'Haven't you heard the planes?' Father asked with a hint of reproach in his voice. 'They've bombed Rotterdam to the ground. Nothing to be saved.'  
'So many dead...' Mother whispered, looking at the radio. 'So many homeless.'  
'Has there been an official statement yet?' you asked father. He slightly nodded. 'I heard some information from a friend of mine over the telephone.'  
You frowned, not sure why he would get to hear that... 

'The Netherlands have surrendered. It's for the better. Otherwise, they would've bombed other major cities. I called it, that we would be overwhelmed by them within days. We're immensely weak, so it's good that we finally get a country with a strong military to reign over us now. You know, it's not that bad.' 

But you found no comfort in his words, swallowing thickly as you felt your hope shatter. You had no idea what it meant, not to your family, not to your country. 

And with that, you knew that a war had started, that this would still be a long way to go and that this was long from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The fact that parents will slap their children is purely period-typical. It wasn't a big deal back in the day, especially if it meant disciplining a child to behave. Nowadays, child abuse services would knock on the door to bring the child to a safer place, as it should be. Hitting children is inexcusable, it will make them feel like they're unworthy. If you are experiencing or suspecting a case of domestic abuse, please contact the proper services provided at the place where you live.
> 
> ** ANP stands for "Algemeen Nederlands Persbureau", loosely translated the General Dutch Press.
> 
> ***Inundations: Back in the day, the Netherlands heavily relied on their dykes. Because water was something we had used as a weapon for centuries (Too shallow to sail through and too deep to properly walk), one of the first things they decided to do is to poke holes in them so the lands would simply flood. However, giving the fact that war in the air was now a thing, it made the whole process useless in the end. In the beginning of battle it still drove back the Germans, though. 
> 
> **** Guldens: Gilders. For more on currencies, see chapter 1


End file.
